When words are the only thing i have left
by inkbender
Summary: [MANGA SPOILERS] A series of letters written by those with nothing left to lose. Chapter 1: from Annie Leonhart.


Author's Note: this series won't make much sense if you haven't read the manga. Also, manga spoilers abound, so TURN BACK if you've only watched the anime.

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" **It's too late to ask you to forgive me, Annie… But let me just tell you this one thing: treat the whole world as your enemy. Even if the whole world will curse and resent you, remember that your father will always be on your side. So please… promise me something. Promise you will come back."**

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Dear Father,

I am a failure as a warrior, and worse, I have failed you.

I'm so sorry.

Her body is a mangled mess. Her right leg is twisted the wrong way and half an arm is missing. One of her twin ponytails has come loose and spills itself across her face, obscuring the most of it. From where I stand, her face is turned away from me. I'm glad; I can still see the ugly indentations where massive teeth crunched into her torso, but at least I am spared from seeing her dying expression.

"There's no sense in apologizing," Reiner says as he comes up behind me. I flinch. It seems as if I've spoken aloud. I can't stop staring at her disfigured form, knowing what she has cost me.

Three years ago, I joined the 104th Trainees Squad of the Training Corps along with Reiner Braun and Bertholt Hoover, as per your instruction. I would have enlisted in the army upon my arrival five years ago, had not the humans been firm about a minimum age of thirteen years old. Thus, after retreating with the humans within Wall Rose, I spent two years mostly in solitude, staining my hands with the blood of thousands of humans, before locating Reiner and Bertholt so that we could begin the next phase of the mission by joining the army together.

As I coldly communicated to the humans from the very beginning that I did not enjoy their presence, most trainees did well to keep their distance. Even in a military camp, where sleeping quarters, bathroom facilities, and eating stations cram as many trainees into as small place as possible, I effectively kept up an icy shield that warded the world away from me. Even Reiner, who had as early as the first week taken up the fantasy role of being a human "big brother" full of warmth and happiness and rainbows, never dared to approach me. I hated the world, and the world drew uneasily away from me.

That is, until MinaCarolina came along.

She was average. There was nothing special about her. She simply slept in the bunk above mine. However, after the first month, I also noticed that she began to choose the "ice seat" of her own accord. The "ice seat" was the spot adjacent to mine in the mess hall, in the classroom, or on the training field that the world generally avoided; however, because the mess hall and the classroom were small, confined spaces, the last student to arrive was forced to take the "ice seat." Yet Mina was the first to willingly take that spot.

In keeping with my promise to you, Father, I initially did not interact with her. Any attempts at conversation were ignored. When she attempted to bring her associates around, most simply froze in place until I left. When she cheerfully insisted that we partner together during training exercises, I did not hesitate to hurt her.

I assure you that this did not change as the months continued on. She often sat next to me in the mess hall and held a conversation with herself until I left. She fell behind as I excelled in utilizing the 3D maneuver gear and established myself as one of the permanent Top Ten in the Training Corps. Though I never asked for help on mathematics or physics classwork, she could easily tell when I was unable to solve a problem and would attempt to assist me. Once, in the bathrooms, she blatantly walked into my shower space, completely unashamed of her body, and offered me artificial cleansing products: some goop for women's hair and a fragrant soap bar.

I ensured that she would never do so that again.

The hair cream worked very well though.

Things changed during the second week of our tenth month within the training camp. I threw her headfirst into the ground and, in bracing for impact, she put all her weight on her arm and broke it. It was then that I became aware of the fact that she consistently woke up at precisely 02:30 every night to go to the bathroom. She was unable to silently climb down the ladder with her broken appendage, and her noisy attempts to descend and climb in pitch darkness woke all the heaviest of sleepers; thus I switched bunks with her in order to avoid these irritating midnight interruptions. She, along with the majority of the 104th trainees squad, mistakenly viewed this as an act of goodwill. The world shifted around me, initiated by a possibly unintentional move by Mina Carolina; I had no choice but to readjust my position as well, using Mina for reference. It was the first of many, many mistakes, and for that I am sorry, Father.

Reiner challenged me the day afterwards during training when I tried to leave early. It was the first time he had ever approached me during our time in the camp. Though Reiner possibly weighs twice as much as I do, I utilized the kicking technique you taught me and used his weight against him. After Eren Jeager experienced this as well, he insisted that I train him.

Eren's drive to eradicate all the Titans is in direct opposition to our goals, and yet I still chose to increase that resolve by training his physical body. Though our goal parameters have changed now that he has also revealed himself to be a Titan Shifter, my foolish actions in training Eren have already jeopardized much of what we have worked for. I won't attempt to cover up why I decided to engage with Eren: bluntly put, I admire idealistic idiots like him. Maybe it's because he so firmly believes in his pure purpose within a black-and-white world that he doesn't waver from it. I, on the other hand, _cannot_ waver from my cause, which has been cast into all shades of gray. Not if I wish to fulfill my promise to you and return home, though I realize that it may already be too late.

Three years of training, living, sleeping, _breathing_ with the 104th Squad broke me down slowly. The physical combat that you've trained me in for the entirety of my life couldn't protect me from their advances. The promise that I made to you, the only person I thought I could ever love, didn't know of the power of humankind. Because of Mina's first move, I couldn't help but treat the world much like I treated her: I tolerated her. I replied to a select few of her conversational questions. I may or may not have requested more of that artificial showering product for women's hair.

In short, I became a soldier.

Her hair is black silk wrapped around her eyes, shielding her from the true cruelties of this world. I have a tiny bottle of her showering goop in the few belongings that I had intended to bring with me to my Military Police dormitory. I don't know if I can now. Therein lies my situation, Father: though I still remain steadfast to my mission, I am at the same time lost. I have washed myself in the blood of hundreds of humans before as a warrior. I've crumpled their tiny forms in my hands. I slammed their fragile bodies into unforgiving surfaces. Even today, I gutted a member of my own trainee squad (that freckled boy with certain associations to Jean Kirstein) when he noticed the steam rising from one of my regenerating wounds. Ending the lives of nameless, worthless humans is as easy to me as snuffing out a candle or stepping on an ant. But I see the crushed body of the girl who changed me at my feet and I can't decide now which I am more: the warrior or the soldier? And can I continue solely down the path of a warrior, without the slightest distraction of the soldier that Mina Carolina has instilled within me?

These words I will never be able to write to you, nor will I physically preserve them on paper. But for now, as this massive weight of guilt threatens to drive me to my knees, I send you this mental plea in the hope that, if you ever see your failure of your daughter again, you could at least know what I feel in my greatest moment of weakness.

Against your final word, I loved a bit of this world.

In return, the world has cursed me and I have lost.

I am so sorry.  
Annie


End file.
